


Father

by foxfreakinmulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, post ghouli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 12:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13613520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxfreakinmulder/pseuds/foxfreakinmulder
Summary: Post Ghouli (kind of) - More kinda focussed on Mulder's feelings[however i will warn you this is a bit au]





	Father

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. But if I did, I'd do a much better job that CC.  
> ALSO PLEASE READ OPEN MINDEDLY

He was not my son.

Mulder mumbled to himself as he saw William’s lifeless body on the floor of his bedroom. Of course, at the time he did not know for certain that it was William, but it was too impossible for it not to be him.

He was not my son.

Mulder silently thought to himself as he sat in his bedroom, stuck in a dangerous atmosphere filled with a feeling of loneliness and what little memory of William he had left.

For years, there was always the regret about the lack of time that he had with this miracle that Scully had produced. 72 hours. 4320 minutes. 259200 seconds. 72 hours Mulder had to get to know his son. To hold him. Love him. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough time to become a father.

He was not my son.

This is what Mulder told himself as he saw William lying lifeless on the cold metal slab, holding onto Scully as if she were to slip away if he let go. He didn’t allow himself to let go. Wouldn’t let himself grieve for the lifeless miracle that he had helped create.

At this moment, all he could think about was the crying woman in his arms. All of her built up guilt from the past 17 years, from the moment she gave up her son, was now drenched into Mulder’s suit jacket. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, but were blinked away instantly as he only focussed on the broken woman grieving for the son she never knew.

He was not my son.

As Mulder held Scully close that night. He would not sleep, only stare into the dark abyss and be reminded of how her son had come back into their lives. Her son. Mulder was unsure when he had started to refer to William as her son. Not _his_ son. Not _our_ son, but _her_ son. Recently Mulder only thought of himself as the sperm donor and nothing more. The guy who made a woman’s dream a reality, even if only for a short amount of time.

Slipping out of Scully’s tight hold, Mulder slid out from under the covers and treaded down the echoey hallway and into the living room, softly throwing his aching body onto the worn out sofa. Shifting his body so that he was lying flat on his back, legs thrown over the edge, Mulder stared blankly into the blank space ahead of him in deep thought of the emotional rollercoaster he was on throughout the day.

Mulder heaved a large sigh, filling the silent air with his thoughts, and runs his hands over his exhausted face. Hands now stationed at his sides, Mulder reflects comprehensively about his past, and comes to the pessimistic conclusion that he would’ve been a horrible father to that child.

As much as Mulder thought, in his younger days, about how much he would’ve included himself in William’s life, his present self knew that he never could’ve been a good male role model for William. Mulder thought himself a self loathing, arrogant, stubborn, and obsessive man. Not exactly the characteristics of a great father.

So here he was now, silently pondering on the fact that he never could’ve been a father that William needed, wanted or deserved.

Suddenly he is unpleasantly greeted with a blinding light from above him. Rubbing at his now sore eyes, he sits up and glances around the room searching for the culprit who had pulled him out of his gloomy loneliness, discovering Scully standing by the light switch in nothing but her panties and his favourite t-shirt.

“Mulder? What’re you doing?” Scully mumbles, still obviously half asleep.

“I, uh, couldn’t sleep. No big deal.” He says as he sits up a little straighter, stretching his back. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

“You’re not okay.”

“Scully, I’m perfectly fi-,”

“Bullshit, Mulder. If you were fine, you would look at me.” Scully says as she rounds the sofa and stands in front of Mulder, hands on hips. “Mulder…please look at me.” She whispers, kneeling down in front of him and taking both his hands in hers.

Finally, Mulder slowly raises his head, meeting her dimly lit grey-blue eyes. There are tears, not from her but from him. They are falling down his face one by one like raindrops on a windowsill. Scully releases his hands and bring her own up to wipe away the salt from his eyes.

Mulder drops his head back down, ashamed. “I’m sorry, Scully. I have no right.” Scully is taken back by his remark.

“Mulder…” She coaxes his head up by placing her finger under his chin, somewhat forcing him to look at her. “You have every right. He was _your_ son too.” She says as she moves onto the sofa, facing towards Mulder.

“No he wasn’t. He was your son, I was _just_ a sperm donor.”

“Mulder, you are never _just anything_ to me.” She replays his words back to him as she pulls him close to her, now with his head resting against her shoulder. “You were his father, you still are.”

“No, Scully.” Mulder sobbed. “A father would be there for the child’s birth. A father would hold his child when it cried. A father would rock his child to sleep, sing lullabies, feed it, bathe it…love it.” Mulder cried out.

“Mulder.”

“You know what a father wouldn’t do?” Mulder lifts his head off of Scully’s shoulder, and she sees his red eyes and runny nose. “A father wouldn’t run. I ran, Scully. I ran away from you and from William.”

Scully was about to protest the fact that he didn’t have a choice but to run, but she saw his look of guilt and pain, and decided against it. She cupped his face with both hands and stared him in the eyes, and tried desperately to see the man that she had fell in love with all those years ago.

“Fox Mulder, I will only say this once more and you better listen.” Scully held his head in place so that he could not move. “William is _your_ son. _You_ are his father, and there is nothing that can take that away from either him or me.” Scully said with her own tears rolling down her paled cheeks.

Mulder stilled for a bit, contemplating on what Scully had just pointed out to him. He could argue about this with her for days on end, but right now he did not have the energy nor the emotional togetherness to do so.

“You shouldn’t be the one comforting me, Scully. I should be doing the comforting. I don’t have the right to-”

“Shut up.” Scully snaps. “You’ve done enough comforting. Let me be the rock for now, and let go.” She softly says as she pulls him back against her.

For a few minutes, there is nothing but little snivels from the man in her arms. But then, she feels her shirt (well his shirt) dampen and can hear the muffled sobs that are escaping his mouth. Scully senses a tightening of her shirt, as she realises that Mulder is clutching onto it as if he felt like he’d slip away if he let go.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” She says, stroking the back of his head as he continues to release all the built up emotions.

Scully had her own tears spilling from her eyes, not only for her lost son but also for her lost son’s father. She didn’t expect him to feel that way. She was taken back by the sudden realness of his feelings towards their son. To her, it was always their son. Not his son. Not her son. But their son.

They stayed like this until they both were all cried out and exhausted. Mulder’s sobs softened, and his tears subsided. Scully wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks and swatted away the snot that had come away from her nose. Neither of them moved, and neither had the intention of moving.

Mulder, however, needed to lift one more burden off of his shoulders, before dawn broke. And so with the little courage he had left, he detached himself from Scully and sat up, bringing her with him.

“Before we both fall into a deep sleep for the next 2 days, I need to say one more thing.” Mulder mumbles.

Scully is silent, patiently waiting for her partner to say whatever it was he needed to say. Mulder takes a deep breath in.

“Dana…there is no one else.” Scully’s face contorts in confusion. Mulder takes another breath. “There is no one else for me. You’re it.” Scully’s eyes widen to the size of golf balls.

“Mulder, what are you trying to say?” Scully says, wanting him to expand a little more.

“What I’m trying to say is…You are it. You don’t need to worry about a younger woman because I’ve found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Mulder pauses before quickly adding, “And I would’ve loved to have been the father of your children.”

Scully is frozen in place. Blankly looking at Mulder. Finally, she let’s out a jagged breath that she wasn’t aware she was holding. Slowly removing herself from the sofa, she begins to walk back into the bedroom without another word.

Mulder feels like there is a lump in his throat, and there are another round of tears that are threatening to escape his eyes. However, Scully reappears out of the bedroom and makes her way back over to the sofa, now with a crumbled piece of paper in her hand. She sits back down, unfolds the paper, deeply inhales and begins to read.

“Dear Mulder, I am writing this as you sleep right next to me. We just finished the ‘hangman’ case, and well you know what happened next.” Scully blushes and lifts the paper to hide her reddened face.

“You must be thinking, why is she writing a letter? Why not tell me in person? Well, truth is…I’m scared. I’m scared of what you might say, that could potentially break my heart. But here it goes.” Scully pauses, wiping away a stray tear. Another inhale.

“I met someone. I wasn’t looking. It just happened. I happened to stumble into his life ass first and although he has offered me many ways out, I can’t seem to bring myself to leave. We’ve been through so much together and I can’t possibly erase those memories.” Scully looks up to see Mulder gazing into her soul. “So basically what I’m trying to say is…well Mulder, you’re it for me.”

There’s silence for a good 30 seconds before Mulder lunges forward to hold Scully’s head in his hands and brings her lips to meet his. The kiss wasn’t chaste, it was passionate yet slow. They both wanted to feel the waves of emotion that were put into their mashed lips.

There was no need for that 8 letters, three word sentence. They knew. This was the beginning.

ATTHS

**Author's Note:**

> Did I kinda fuck this up with the ending? I mean this is kinda two fics in one. The ending was from another fic I wrote but didn't publish. Also, I wrote a majority of this drunk :))))))


End file.
